


To be so lonely

by prettychaotic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, M/M, No Smut, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21805696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettychaotic/pseuds/prettychaotic
Summary: Just an interpretation of To be so Lonely from Fine Line. Just honestly a borderline sad and hopefull story.
Relationships: Camille Rowe/Harry Styles, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	To be so lonely

_Don’t blame me for falling,_ _I was just a little boy_

It’s Friday. They have just finished another episode of the X-factor and it went really well. Harry’s drinking a coke on the sofa while they watch the episode back, his arm almost touching Louis’. He looks a bit to his side, watching the older boy as he watches the TV. His eyelashes are long and dark, creating shadows on his cheeks. His lips close around the head of a bottled beer, slowly gulping, eyes still glued on the telly. Harry blushes slightly as he sees Niall look at him from the other side of the sofa, and he looks away.

He tries concentrating on the program again, and he’s successfully watching it until a hand drops on his lower thigh. He turns his head to the side, shocked, and Louis is looking at him, eyes glistening and a smirk on his lips. Harry shoves him a little bit, not nearly hard enough to get him to remove his hand, and just blushes again. Maybe he’s imagining it, but it feels like Louis is looking at his lips for a short second. Harry feels something warm inside, confused at the jumping his heart does in his chest.

_Don’t blame the drunk caller, wasn’t ready for it all_

Harry is shit-faced. He’s just went to some club that his new team made him go to, and he’s regretting those last shots a lot. When he looks at his phone, he sees the time doubled: 04.04.07.07. That’s not a good thing, he decides. But the thing is – he’s in London, and he doesn’t wanna go home to be lonely. He looks a little bit more at his phone, standing outside of the club all alone, and after the screen has stopped drifting in and out of his view – probably because he closed one eye – he makes a call.

A sleepy voice answers and Harry knows that he’s obnoxious as he hears his own voice.

\- Hiiiii, he gets out.

\- Harry? Answers Louis, his voice raspy and oh so sexy.

\- Yep, he pops the p, looking down at his loafers as he stumbles a little.

\- It’s… A pause. It’s four a.m., Louis answers.

Harry knows it is. He’s just feeling lonely and sad and wants a some cuddles and maybe a blowjob in the morning.

\- What’s up? Harry then asks, his words slurred into the phone.

\- Look, H, if you wanna talk, call in the morning, okay? I’m knackered, pal, Louis says, and Harry’s hurt, of course he is.

\- I know things are weird, but let’s talk in the morning, okay?

Harry is silent.

\- Whatever, he says, hanging up the phone, barely hearing Louis yell stop at the other side of the line.

He goes home alone that night. When he wakes up, he deletes the message Louis has sent him.

_You can’t blame me, darling, not even a little bit_

Another breakup, another heartbreak, about forty more drinks and Harry is sober in a bar while Mitch has borrowed a guitar that was hanging on the wall. He’s playing the intro to one of their new songs and Harry is miserable. He saw his ex’s slippers in the studio today and it totally broke him down, so to apologize, Mitch and Sarah took him out for drinks. Which led to them talking happily over the table and Harry just wallowing in his own heartbreak.

The door opens to the little New York bar they’re in and Harry looks up, internally hoping to see her face even though she’s in Malibu with her new boyfriend. Who Harry has decided is a stroppy twat. He doesn’t expect to see a 5’8 man with a soft, 2012-styled fringe and shimmering blue eyes, but that’s exactly who comes in the door. He’s smiling widely, having some banter with his mates. Harry’s heart makes a weak pulse at the sight, it has been so long.

Louis then looks at him, smiles even wider, and Harry knows it – he’s falling again.

_I was away, and I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry_

They have been fighting again. Louis has taken his things for the fourth time in two months and disappeared God knows where. Harry hides his face in his ring covered hands as the door slams hard in their London home. He came home from L.A. two hours ago, and Louis has heard the rumors already. Harry knows he shouldn’t have done it. But the drink and Louis being so far away made it all so easy, just a little taste, just a quick kiss. He’s regretting it now, of course.

The thing would have been over so fast if Harry wouldn’t have been so stubborn. He could have just confessed and admitted his sin, and it would’ve been fine. Harry’s really sorry, but he can’t bring himself to say the words so instead he blames Louis. ”You weren’t there, you don’t know what happened! I don’t care if there’s pictures, it’s none of your business”. Harry sighs internally for being so damn arrogant. Louis doesn’t call him for three days, and when he does, it’s to say he’s found himself a flat.


End file.
